The Spirit of the Border: A Romance of the Early Settlers in the Ohio Valley

by Zane Grey

  Chapter XXIV.

  When the first ruddy rays of the rising sun crimsoned the easternsky, Wetzel slowly wound his way down a rugged hill far west ofBeautiful Spring. A white dog, weary and footsore, limped by hisside. Both man and beast showed evidence of severe exertion.

  The hunter stopped in a little cave under a projecting stone, and,laying aside his rifle, began to gather twigs and sticks. He wasparticular about selecting the wood, and threw aside many pieceswhich would have burned well; but when he did kindle a flame itblazed hotly, yet made no smoke.

  He sharpened a green stick, and, taking some strips of meat from hispocket, roasted them over the hot flame. He fed the dog first. Mosehad crouched close on the ground with his head on his paws, and hisbrown eyes fastened upon the hunter.

  "He had too big a start fer us," said Wetzel, speaking as if the dogwere human. It seemed that Wetzel's words were a protest against themeaning in those large, sad eyes.

  Then the hunter put out the fire, and, searching for a more secludedspot, finally found one on top of the ledge, where he commanded agood view of his surroundings. The weary dog was asleep. Wetzelsettled himself to rest, and was soon wrapped in slumber.

  About noon he awoke. He arose, stretched his limbs, and then took aneasy position on the front of the ledge, where he could look below.Evidently the hunter was waiting for something. The dog slept on. Itwas the noonday hour, when the stillness of the forest almostmatched that of midnight. The birds were more quiet than at anyother time during daylight.

  Wetzel reclined there with his head against the stone, and his rifleresting across his knees.

  He listened now to the sounds of the forest. The soft breezefluttering among the leaves, the rain-call of the tree frog, the cawof crows from distant hilltops, the sweet songs of the thrush andoriole, were blended together naturally, harmoniously.

  But suddenly the hunter raised his head. A note, deeper than theothers, a little too strong, came from far down the shaded hollow.To Wetzel's trained ear it was a discord. He manifested no more thanthis attention, for the birdcall was the signal he had beenawaiting. He whistled a note in answer that was as deep and clear asthe one which had roused him.

  Moments passed. There was no repetition of the sound. The songs ofthe other birds had ceased. Besides Wetzel there was anotherintruder in the woods.

  Mose lifted his shaggy head and growled. The hunter patted the dog.In a few minutes the figure of a tall man appeared among the laurelsdown the slope. He stopped while gazing up at the ledge. Then, withnoiseless step, he ascended the ridge, climbed the rocky ledge, andturned the corner of the stone to face Wetzel. The newcomer wasJonathan Zane.

  "Jack, I expected you afore this," was Wetzel's greeting.

  "I couldn't make it sooner," answered Zane. "After we leftWilliamson and separated, I got turned around by a band of severalhundred redskins makin' for the Village of Peace. I went back again,but couldn't find any sign of the trail we're huntin'. Then I makesfor this meetin' place. I've been goin' for some ten hours, and amhungry."

  "I've got some bar ready cooked," said Wetzel, handing Zane severalstrips of meat.

  "What luck did you have?"

  "I found Girty's trail, an old one, over here some eighteen ortwenty miles, an' follered it until I went almost into the Delawaretown. It led to a hut in a deep ravine. I ain't often surprised, butI wus then. I found the dead body of that girl, Kate Wells, wefetched over from Fort Henry. Thet's sad, but it ain't thesurprisin' part. I also found Silvertip, the Shawnee I've beenlookin' fer. He was all knocked an' cut up, deader'n a stone.There'd been somethin' of a scrap in the hut. I calkilate Girtymurdered Kate, but I couldn't think then who did fer Silver, thoughI allowed the renegade might hev done thet, too. I watched round an'seen Girty come back to the hut. He had ten Injuns with him, an'presently they all made fer the west. I trailed them, but didn'tcalkilate it'd be wise to tackle the bunch single-handed, so laidback. A mile or so from the hut I came across hoss tracks minglin'with the moccasin-prints. About fifteen mile or from the Delawaretown, Girty left his buckskins, an' they went west, while he stuckto the hoss tracks. I was onto his game in a minute. I cut acrosscountry fer Beautiful Spring, but I got there too late. I found thewarm bodies of Joe and thet Injun girl, Winds. The snake hedmurdered them."

  "I allow Joe won over Winds, got away from the Delaware town withher, tried to rescue Kate, and killed Silver in the fight. Girtyprobably was surprised, an' run after he had knifed the girl."

  "'Pears so to me. Joe had two knife cuts, an' one was an old wound."

  "You say it was a bad fight?"

  "Must hev been. The hut was all knocked in, an' stuff scatteredabout. Wal, Joe could go some if he onct got started."

  "I'll bet he could. He was the likeliest lad I've seen for many aday."

  "If he'd lasted, he'd been somethin' of a hunter an' fighter."

  "Too bad. But Lord! you couldn't keep him down, no more than you canlots of these wild young chaps that drift out here."

  "I'll allow he had the fever bad."

  "Did you hev time to bury them?"

  "I hedn't time fer much. I sunk them in the spring."

  "It's a pretty deep hole," said Zane, reflectively. "Then, you andthe dog took Girty's trail, but couldn't catch up with him. He's nowwith the renegade cutthroats and hundreds of riled Indians overthere in the Village of Peace."

  "I reckon you're right."

  A long silence ensued. Jonathan finished his simple repast, drankfrom the little spring that trickled under the stone, and, sittingdown by the dog, smoothed out his long silken hair.

  "Lew, we're pretty good friends, ain't we?" he asked, thoughtfully.

  "Jack, you an' the colonel are all the friends I ever hed, 'ceptin'that boy lyin' quiet back there in the woods."

  "I know you pretty well, and ain't sayin' a word about your runnin'off from me on many a hunt, but I want to speak plain about thisfellow Girty."

  "Wal?" said Wetzel, as Zane hesitated.

  "Twice in the last few years you and I have had it in for the samemen, both white-livered traitors. You remember? First it was Miller,who tried to ruin my sister Betty, and next it was Jim Girty, whomurdered our old friend, as good an old man as ever wore moccasins.Wal, after Miller ran off from the fort, we trailed him down to theriver, and I points across and says, 'You or me?' and you says,'Me.' You was Betty's friend, and I knew she'd be avenged. Miller islyin' quiet in the woods, and violets have blossomed twice over hisgrave, though you never said a word; but I know it's true because Iknow you."

  Zane looked eagerly into the dark face of his friend, hoping perhapsto get some verbal assurance there that his belief was true. ButWetzel did not speak, and he continued:

  "Another day not so long ago we both looked down at an old friend,and saw his white hair matted with blood. He'd been murdered fornothin'. Again you and me trailed a coward and found him to be JimGirty. I knew you'd been huntin' him for years, and so I says, 'Lew,you or me?' and you says, 'Me.' I give in to you, for I knew you'rea better man than me, and because I wanted you to have thesatisfaction. Wal, the months have gone by, and Jim Girty's stilllivin' and carryin' on. Now he's over there after them poorpreachers. I ain't sayin', Lew, that you haven't more agin him thanme, but I do say, let me in on it with you. He always has a gang ofredskins with him; he's afraid to travel alone, else you'd had himlong ago. Two of us'll have more chance to get him. Let me go withyou. When it comes to a finish, I'll stand aside while you give itto him. I'd enjoy seein' you cut him from shoulder to hip. After heleaves the Village of Peace we'll hit his trail, camp on it, andstick to it until it ends in his grave."

  The earnest voice of the backwoodsman ceased. Both men rose andstood facing each other. Zane's bronzed face was hard and tense,expressive of an indomitable will; Wetzel's was coldly dark, withfateful resolve, as if his decree of vengeance, once given, was asimmutable as destiny. The big, horny hands gripped in a viselikeclasp born of fierce passion, but no word was spoken.

/>   Far to the west somewhere, a befrilled and bedizened renegadepursued the wild tenor of his ways; perhaps, even now steeping hissoul in more crime, or staining his hands a deeper red, but sleepingor waking, he dreamed not of this deadly compact that meant hisdoom.

  The two hunters turned their stern faces toward the west, and passedsilently down the ridge into the depths of the forest. Darknessfound them within rifle-shot of the Village of Peace. With the dogcreeping between them, they crawled to a position which would, indaylight, command a view of the clearing. Then, while one stoodguard, the other slept.

  When morning dawned they shifted their position to the top of a low,fern-covered cliff, from which they could see every movement in thevillage. All the morning they watched with that wonderful patienceof men who knew how to wait. The visiting savages were quiet, themissionaries moved about in and out of the shops and cabins; theChristian indians worked industriously in the fields, while therenegades lolled before a prominent teepee.

  "This quiet looks bad," whispered Jonathan to Wetzel. No shouts wereheard; not a hostile Indian was seen to move.

  "They've come to a decision," whispered Jonathan, and Wetzelanswered him:

  "If they hev, the Christians don't know it."

  An hour later the deep pealing of the church bell broke the silence.The entire band of Christian Indians gathered near the large logstructure, and then marched in orderly form toward the maple grovewhere the service was always held in pleasant weather. This movementbrought the Indians within several hundred yards of the cliff whereZane and Wetzel lay concealed.

  "There's Heckewelder walking with old man Wells," whisperedJonathan. "There's Young and Edwards, and, yes, there's the youngmissionary, brother of Joe. 'Pears to me they're foolish to holdservice in the face of all those riled Injuns."

  "Wuss'n foolish," answered Wetzel.

  "Look! By gum! As I'm a livin' sinner there comes the whole crowd ofhostile redskins. They've got their guns, and--by Gum! they'repainted. Looks bad, bad! Not much friendliness about that bunch!"

  "They ain't intendin' to be peaceable."

  "By gum! You're right. There ain't one of them settin' down. 'Pearsto me I know some of them redskins. There's Pipe, sure enough, andKotoxen. By gum! If there ain't Shingiss; he was friendly once."

  "None of them's friendly."

  "Look! Lew, look! Right behind Pipe. See that long war-bonnet. AsI'm a born sinner, that's your old friend, Wingenund. 'Pears to mewe've rounded up all our acquaintances."

  The two bordermen lay close under the tall ferns and watched theproceedings with sharp eyes. They saw the converted Indians seatthemselves before the platform. The crowd of hostile Indianssurrounded the glade on all sides, except on, which, singularlyenough, was next to the woods.

  "Look thar!" exclaimed Wetzel, under his breath. He pointed off tothe right of the maple glade. Jonathan gazed in the directionindicated, and saw two savages stealthily slipping through thebushes, and behind trees. Presently these suspicious acting spies,or scouts, stopped on a little knoll perhaps an hundred yards fromthe glade.

  Wetzel groaned.

  "This ain't comfortable," growled Zane, in a low whisper. "Them reddevils are up to somethin' bad. They'd better not move round overhere."

  The hunters, satisfied that the two isolated savages meant mischief,turned their gaze once more toward the maple grove.

  "Ah! Simon you white traitor! See him, Lew, comin' with his preciousgang," said Jonathan. "He's got the whole thing fixed, you canplainly see that. Bill Elliott, McKee; and who's that renegade withJim Girty? I'll allow he must be the fellar we heard was with theChippewas. Tough lookin' customer; a good mate fer Jim Girty! A finelot of border-hawks!"

  "Somethin' comin' off," whispered Wetzel, as Zane's low growl grewunintelligible.

  Jonathan felt, rather than saw, Wetzel tremble.

  "The missionaries are consultin'. Ah! there comes one! Which? Iguess it's Edwards. By gum! who's that Injun stalkin' over from thehostile bunch. Big chief, whoever he is. Blest if it ain't HalfKing!"

  The watchers saw the chief wave his arm and speak with evidentarrogance to Edwards, who, however, advanced to the platform andraised his hand to address the Christians.

  "Crack!"

  A shot rang out from the thicket. Clutching wildly at his breast,the missionary reeled back, staggered, and fell.

  "One of those skulkin' redskins has killed Edwards," said Zane."But, no; he's not dead! He's gettin' up. Mebbe he ain't hurt bad.By gum! there's Young comin' forward. Of all the fools!"

  It was indeed true that Young had faced the Indians. Half Kingaddressed him as he had the other; but Young raised his hand andbegan speaking.

  "Crack!"

  Another shot rang out. Young threw up his hands and fell heavily.The missionaries rushed toward him. Mr. Wells ran round the group,wringing his hands as if distracted.

  "He's hard hit," hissed Zane, between his teeth. "You can tell thatby the way he fell."

  Wetzel did not answer. He lay silent and motionless, his long bodyrigid, and his face like marble.

  "There comes the other young fellar--Joe's brother. He'll getplugged, too," continued Zane, whispering rather to himself than tohis companion. "Oh, I hoped they'd show some sense! It's noble forthem to die for Christianity, but it won't do no good. By gum!Heckewelder has pulled him back. Now, that's good judgment!"

  Half King stepped before the Christians and addressed them. He heldin his hand a black war-club, which he wielded as he spoke.

  Jonathan's attention was now directed from the maple grove to thehunter beside him. He had heard a slight metallic click, as Wetzelcocked his rifle. Then he saw the black barrel slowly rise.

  "Listen, Lew. Mebbe it ain't good sense. We're after Girty, youremember; and it's a long shot from here--full three hundred yards."

  "You're right, Jack, you're right," answered Wetzel, breathing hard.

  "Let's wait, and see what comes off."

  "Jack, I can't do it. It'll make our job harder; but I can't helpit. I can put a bullet just over the Huron's left eye, an' I'm goin'to do it."

  "You can't do it, Lew; you can't! It's too far for any gun. Wait!Wait!" whispered Jonathan, laying his hand on Wetzel's shoulder.

  "Wait? Man, can't you see what the unnamable villain is doin'?"

  "What?" asked Zane, turning his eyes again to the glade.

  The converted Indians sat with bowed heads. Half King raised hiswar-club, and threw it on the ground in front of them.

  "He's announcin' the death decree!" hissed Wetzel.

  "Well! if he ain't!"

  Jonathan looked at Wetzel's face. Then he rose to his knees, as hadWetzel, and tightened his belt. He knew that in another instant theywould be speeding away through the forest.

  "Lew, my rifle's no good fer that distance. But mebbe yours is. Youought to know. It's not sense, because there's Simon Girty, andthere's Jim, the men we're after. If you can hit one, you cananother. But go ahead, Lew. Plug that cowardly redskin!"

  Wetzel knelt on one knee, and thrust the black rifle forward throughthe fern leaves. Slowly the fatal barrel rose to a level, and becameas motionless as the immovable stones.

  Jonathan fixed his keen gaze on the haughty countenance of Half Kingas he stood with folded arms and scornful mien in front of theChristians he had just condemned.

  Even as the short, stinging crack of Wetzel's rifle broke thesilence, Jonathan saw the fierce expression of Half King's dark facechange to one of vacant wildness. His arms never relaxed from theirfolded position. He fell, as falls a monarch of the forest trees, adead weight.